


The Art of Pretending

by everystareverywhere



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Captain Swan Movie Marathon Event (Once Upon a Time), F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everystareverywhere/pseuds/everystareverywhere
Summary: Killian Jones needs a family and needs one now. In order to impress his boss, Killian hires a single mother and her son to pretend to be his wife and son for the weekend. Nothing can go wrong, right?
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones & Emma Swan
Comments: 18
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Here is my submission for the Captain Swan Movie Marathon! This is based off of the Lifetime movie, "Borrowed Hearts," starring Eric McCormack and Roma Downey. The movie came out in 1997, and I consider it to be one of the first made-for-tv Christmas movies.
> 
> A couple of years ago I was watching it and thought this would be a fantastic scenario for our favorite Captain and Savior. I wrote it and then stopped, and then started it again, only to stop again. When I saw this movie marathon, I knew instantly this was the movie I wanted to do and I wanted to make sure that I finished it this time. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

Henry Swan looked up at the night sky and closed his eyes. If anything in his eight years of life has taught him, it was the first star you saw was the one you always made a wish on. And so he did. He closed his eyes so tightly, his little fists clutched, and his mind could only focus on one thing.

A house.

Not necessarily a home, because at eight he really didn't understand the difference between a house and a home. To him, they kind of meant the same thing. And he did have a home, with his mother, Emma, and their landlord, a fiery older woman she insisted that everyone call "Granny." But it was Thanksgiving, and he knew that he should be giving thanks for the fact that he has a roof over his head, friends and family to eat with, and food on the table - even if his mother does make him eat vegetables.

But they lived in a small apartment where you can hear every sound all the tenants make. You couldn't have the air conditioner on at the same time as the oven, and God forbid you try to take a bath without the neighbors below complaining of a leak. Henry's room was also the size of a closet, which could only contain his bed, a small dresser, and an even smaller toy box. He was getting too big for the room, honestly. The rest of the apartment was rundown, and he knew that his mother was doing the best that she could. She worked really long hours as a waitress in a local diner. 

But no matter how hard she worked, it never seemed to be enough. The only thing he asked for for his birthday this year was a fairy tale book he saw at a secondhand book store. The book is amazing, but it also cost upwards of fifty dollars. He felt bad, because he knew that his mom was getting a bill after bill after bill. She tried to hid it from him, but he knew was "LAST NOTICE" meant.

(He looked it up online, honestly.)

So while he was wishing for a house, a smaller part of him was hoping his mother could get a better job or something to help get more money. They needed it.

Henry also needed a bigger room.

"Henry!" his mother called from the dining room. "Food's ready!"

Walking away from his window, Henry took a deep breath before bouncing into the room. "Smells delicious, Mom!"

"Oh, thanks kid. But Granny's the one who cooked everything," she said, gesturing to the older woman who walked in carrying the turkey. 

"Hey, I made the dessert!" Granny's only grandchild, and fellow waitress at the diner that Granny owned and Emma worked at, Ruby piped up. "It's apple pie." She winked at Henry. "Your favorite."

"It's supposed to be pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving," Emma said, coming into the room wearing oven mitts as she carried a casserole dish filled with mashed potatoes.

"We have that too," Mary Margaret Nolan chimed. She was Emma's best friend, and Henry's godmother. Henry looked at her as more like a family member than a friend, along with her husband, David, who was putting ice in the cups. "David made a fresh pie this morning."

"Only the best for my nephew," he said, grinning at Henry.

The table that was only supposed to seat four sat the six of them somewhat snuggly. Henry was squished between his mother and aunt, and he smiled as he looked around. After everyone sat down, Granny insisted that they should say grace, and though Henry only went to church for Easter and Christmas (and the occasionally Sunday when Emma feels that they should go), he bowed his head too.

He might have said his only little prayer, because when you're desperate for a change, you'll pray (or wish) to anything.

"Let's eat!" Granny announced as she got up to cut the turkey. There was a lot of chatter and music playing softly in the background. Emma filled Henry's plate with turkey, mashed potatoes, and corn, and he thought that maybe the house wasn't big, but his heart certainly was.

~*~

Three weeks before Christmas. God, did he hate this time of year. Everyone was so fake, pretending to be in the Christmas spirit when really they were just looking for a way to buy their mother a gift that was way too expensive because they're not actually sure what she would want.

Killian Jones sighed as he entered his place of work and walked past the receptionists who might have said hello to him, but he wasn't sure. Because right now, he had big news. Huge, really. And he really needed to get to the thirty fourth floor to find his business partner (and perhaps closet friend) David Nolan.

Killian began working for the Woodman Corporation right out of college. He started as everyone does, an intern before just working his way up. Now he's the manager of this branch in New York, and overseas hundreds of workers. Not bad for a boy who came over to America when he was fifteen with his brother and barely any money in their pockets.

The Woodman Corporation was the company you wanted to hire when you wanted a building made. "We make dreams come true!" had always been the slogan. And though Killian wasn't exactly sure about the dreams part, they certainly did make wonderful buildings. And the owner, Marco Woodman, was just the kindest soul one could meet. Killian had the occasion to meet him once before, which was when Mr. Woodman came to visit his New York office, and Killian had just started getting paid for his work at that time. There was another branch in Boston, one in Chicago, and one in Los Angeles. Rumor was that Marco wanted to go overseas, and back to his home, London. Killian would almost kill for the position. Killian too was from London, and would love to go back. Nothing was really keeping him here in New York anyway.

Killian got on the elevator, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had to see David and tell him the news. Now. He was going to burst if he didn't tell his partner the news in the next minute.

Killian has known David for only the last number of years, but it certainly feels longer than that. While Killian had already been working here when he arrived, David had an air about them that screamed “Royalty” and walked around like he had a stick up his butt. In actuality, Killian and David hadn’t really become that close until two summers ago when they were accidently stuck in an elevator together. Though it was only forty-five minutes, the two men realized that they had quite a bit in common and after that moment became fast friends. David is the first person that Killian runs to with news, and vice versa. So it’s no wonder that not only would Killian practically run to his friend’s office, but that he knew David would share the same excitement with him.

Finally, the elevator dinged and he got off, quickly making his way to David's office. Barely greeting David's secretary, Killian burst open the door to David's office before proclaiming, "He's coming here."

David looks exactly how you picture Prince Charming from those fairy tale stories you probably heard about years ago. Tall, masculine, with blue eyes and sandy-brown hair, he was definitely the typical “boy-next-door” that every daughter wants to bring home to show their momma. Fortunately for David, and unfortunately for all the women who work at this branch, David met his soulmate when he was in high school and married her straight after college. Killian thought he was foolish to marry the one and only girl he ever truly loved, but David told him that she was “the one who he made sure would never get away.” Killian scoffed at that, and called him a blind-loving fool in his mind.

When Killian came bursting through the door, David looked up from his desk. "Who? Jesus? Has the second coming come so close to Christmas?"

"No, you ninny. _Marco_ is coming here."

David stood up slowly, a look of astonishment and awe on his face. "Are you serious? Dude, this is huge. If he's coming here that means..."

Killian started to grin. "I _know_."

"Maybe the rumors are true. Maybe he is going to make a branch in London."

"Oh, how I hope they are."

"That might be why he's coming. Maybe he's here to offer you the job."

Killian crossed two fingers. "I do sure hope you're right."

David pretended to be hurt. "And you would consider leaving me and Mary Margaret in this our hour of need?"

"Our of need? Mate, she's pregnant, not dying. And she's got another three months to go. I can come back from London by then."

"Would you really go?" David asked, sitting back down behind his desk.

Killian shrugged. "Probably. I mean, Liam is back there, you know, with Elsa and my nephew. And I do love New York, but...I don't know. Maybe I should go back. Besides you, I have nothing really tying me here, you know."

"I'm touched that you would consider staying for me."

Killian smirked. "You know I love our bromance. Is that what Mary Margaret called it?"

"Yeah, apparently, that's what her students call it nowadays. A friendship between two men."

"They're ten. They don't know what's hip any more than we do."

"They're closer to understanding it."

Killian sighed as he sat down. "Isn't that true? But back to the matter at hand – Mr. Woodman coming here. Now. I wonder if Regina knows about this.”

“Probably,” David sighed as he sat back down behind his desk. “She’s the head of P.R. here, if anyone should know about Mr. Woodman’s return, it –”

“Men,” Regina Mills, said sternly as she threw open the office door. With her dark black hair and dark brown eyes, Regina was beautiful, but she was by no means a warm woman. However, she had a sort of soft spot for Killian and David, which is why they only gave a small jump when she walked into the room, and didn’t scream or nearly jump out of their chairs (which Killian would be ashamed to admit may have happened once. May have.) “Did you hear the news?”

“About Mr. Woodman?” David asked, as Regina walked further into the room and nodded. “Yeah, we did. We were just discussing why he might be coming here.”

“Well, isn’t it obvious? He wants someone to take over the London section.”

“And what, you want the job?” Killian asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Please,” she scoffed, as though the thought alone was ridiculous. Killian has known Regina long enough to know that she was being serious with her answer. “The last thing I would want is to move to London. All that rain and eating fish?” She shuttered, and Killian and David gave a small grin to each other before looking back at her. “No thank you. No, I wanted to talk to you about Mr. Woodman, and….”

Just then, David’s assistant, Ariel, popped her head into the office and said, “Mr. Jones – sorry to interrupt, but your assistant called. He said that you have Mr. Woodman on the phone.”

Killian, David, and Regina all looked at each other. Killian was so excited, he barely noticed Regina’s face pale as he replied, “Send the call through to here.” Ariel nodded before closing the door behind her.

“Killian, before you take that call—” Regina started, but Killian waved her off.

“Whatever it is, it can wait, Regina. This might the moment my life changes,” he grinned at his friend, who grinned back at him.

“Yeah, about life changing…” But before Regina could get another word in, the phone on David’s desk rang.

Killian smiled before he leaned over, picked up the phone, and pressed the button to except the call. “Mr. Woodman, sir, what a wonderful surprise.”

“ _Mr. Jones? How are you doing?_ ” Marco asked in his old Italian voice.

“I’m fine, sir, just fine. And how are you?”

“Bene _, fine. I needed to talk to you, Mr. Jones—_ ”

“Please, call me Killian.”

Marco chuckled. “ _Killian, eh? Killian, I needed to talk to you. I would love to come to New York to visit, yes? I want to see how we are doing there._ ”

“Oh, you’re coming here?” Killian asked, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice, even though he looked at David and both pumped the air. “Oh, sir, that’s wonderful. In fact, I insist that you stay at my house, as my guest.”

“ _Killian, that is very kind, very kind. I would love to stay with you and your family._ ”

He smiled and was about to respond when Marco’s words registered. Smile fading, he shook his head as he asked, “Stay with my family—?”

Before he could ask what exactly Mr. Woodman meant by that, Regina took the phone out of Killian’s hand and said, “Mr. Woodman? Regina Mills here, how are you?” She paused as he answered. “Oh, I’m fine, just fine. Yes, Killian is fine, he just got into a coughing fit, poor thing.” She lied, looking at him and then glancing away when he mouthed, _Regina, what the hell?_ “Oh, yes, Killian would love to have you come and meet his family, I’m sure.” She paused again before, “Yes, Mrs. Jones and their child are anxious to meet you too.” Killian’s eyes almost bugged out of their head, his mouth dropping before he looked over at David, who was just as stunned as Killian was. “Yes, I will pass along the message. Yes, Killian is fine now. We can’t wait to see you either, Mr. Woodman. _Ciao_.”

As soon as the phone was back in the receiver, Killian all but screamed, “ _Regina, what the bloody hell is he talking about?! What family does he want to meet?!_ ”

Regina leaned on David’s desk, and though her shoulders were back and her back was straight, she kept looking down at her shoes. She muttered something under her breath.

“What was that?” David asked.

She cleared her throat. “I may have touched up your image a bit.”

Killian raised his eyebrows even higher and leaned forward. “Wait. What?”

“Well, it’s just,” she paused before continuing. “I know you’re a hard-working man, but…Marco has certain expectations, and Killian….”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you just…don’t meet them.”

“What do you mean? You just said I’m a hard-working man.”

Now she looked at him. “You are! And you completely deserve that London promotion. But Marco is a family man, and he expects his employees to also be family…people.”

“You’re not a family person,” David muttered before sinking further into his seat when Regina gave him a glare over her shoulder.

“That may be true,” she added softly as she looked down before flicking her hair over her shoulder. “But I’m not the one who needs to impress Marco for a job.”

“What are you saying, Regina, that you ‘spruced’ up my image?” Killian asked, his stomach going somewhere near the floor.

Looking him straight into the eye, she proclaimed, “That’s _exactly_ what I did.”

Killian shook his head and began pacing behind the chairs that were facing David’s desk. “Wait, you told Marco that I have a _family_? What kind of family?”

She shrugged. “The normal kind. A wife and kid.”

“Regina, why would you do such a thing?” David asked. “Killian’s not a bad guy.”

“No, I know that,” she insisted. “But I mean…you may have a bit of a reputation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Killian, don’t play stupid, it’s not a good look on you,” she snapped at him. “You know how it looks that at every Christmas party or celebration we have in the office, you either show up with a woman no one has seen before or sees again, or you come alone. And Marco is a well-established business man, who prides himself on a having a good family.”

“Didn’t he adopt?” Killian asked.

“Does it matter?” Regina replied. “He has a kid. He loved his wife until her passing. He prides himself on hiring people who are loyal and respectable, and who know that family is above all else.”

“How in hell do you know so much about this?” David asked.

“I’m the P.R. person, of course I need to know almost everything about our C.E.O.” She rolled her eyes.

“There’s just one problem with your plan, darling,” Killian said, clutching his hands on the chair and leaning forward. “ _I don’t have a bloody family_!” Taking a deep breath, he said as calmly as he could, “You know that I only have my brother who is in London right now.”

“Yes, yes, I know that,” Regina nodded. For once in her life, Regina paused to think about what she should say next. "I might have come up with a hypothetically family for you, yes. In all honestly, I just said it so he would meet with you."

"We have met!"

"Yes, _years_ ago. Killian, you were barely out of college when you two met. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say he doesn't even remember you."

"Well, gee, thanks," Killian replied sarcastically.

"So," David interrupted, finally. "Let me get this straight. When Mr. Woodman comes, Killian - who just invited him to stay at his house - is going to showcase his family, which he doesn't have?"

Regina nodded. "Yes, that's pretty much the story."

David looked Killian sympathetically. "You're screwed, man."

Killian gave him a look before he replied sarcastically, "Thanks mate."

"Listen, we'll fix this." Regina stated.

"How? Are you going to tell Mr. Woodman that my " _family_ " died tragically in a car accident? Because I don't see how we can fix this?"

"We'll give you a family, dumbass!"

Killian raised an eyebrow before looking at David and commenting, "She's the one who invented a family for me, but _I'm_ the dumbass?"

"I was trying to make you look better!" Regina argued. "I don't think Mr. Woodman- once more remind you, a _family_ man - would want to hear stories about how you have dated every woman in New York."

"That's not true," Killian scoffed. "I haven't dated you."

"Thank Heavens for that," David commented.

"Can we focus on the problem at hand? Where the hell are we going to find a family that will suit our needs?"

David suggested, "Craigslist?"

"We call acting companies," Regina replied, already taking out her phone and, knowing her as he did, started looking up nearby acting organizations. "I'm sure for the right price, anyone will pretend to be married to you for two days."

"Hey!" Killian shouted, feeling the slightest bit insulted.

"Wait, I think..." David started to say, his eyes wide in thought. But just as quickly, he shut his eyes and quickly shook his head. "Nah. Never mind."

"What mate?"

"Well, it's just...I actually know a single mom with a young boy. And she could really use the cash."

Killian looked at David like he was an angel from up above. "Are you being serious right now?"

"Completely. She's a single mom living in an apartment that is basically the size of your living room. I think she's trying to save money for something bigger, so you would totally be helping her out."

Killian scratched the back of his neck as he looked at Regina. "What do you think?"

She shrugged. "No harm in asking. It would work perfectly in all honestly." She looked over at David. "This woman is trustworthy?"

"Emma? Oh, completely," he replied without a bit of hesitation.

"What about her son? How old is he?"

David thought about it for a moment before replying, "I believe eight, and he's got a wonderful imagination. He'll have no trouble selling the family part, I promise."

Killian still looked unsure. "I don't like this. Faking a family for a business deal?"

Regina took him by the shoulders as she whispered, "Killian Jones. This is not just _a_ business deal. This business deal could help our company go global, if we sell to London. Who knows, Paris could be next, then Germany, you don't know! But this is the deal that you worked day and night for."

"The one that she was willing to lie for, to make you look better," David added. Regina gave him a look with a raised eyebrow.

Killian shrugged off Regina's hands as he said, "I know, I know. I just...I don't like the idea of being dishonest."

"I know it's not ideal, mate, but it's a hell of a deal."

“Do you think she would go for it,” Killian asked David. “This…Emily?”

“Emma. And…honestly…I don’t know. She’s the only person I’ve ever met who is more stubborn than you are. But I can ask.”

Killian took a deep breath before replying, “My fate lies in your hands.”


	2. Chapter 2

"Emma," Granny called with the phone on her shoulder. "Come. It's for you."

Putting down the pot of coffee she was holding, Emma made her way over to the phone and picked up, "This is Emma Swan."

" _Ms. Swan, I'm sorry to disturb you at work, but it's about Henry,_ " Henry's teacher, Ms. French, responded calmly.

"He is okay?"

" _Yes, yes, he's fine. He just...he put a couple of worms in another teacher's desk this morning. A few other students saw him doing it. Usually we would just talk to him about this, but seeing how this is has happened twice before, I do believe we need to get you involved as well._ "

"Yeah. Yes, of course." Emma bit her lip and blood rushed to her face. She was going to kill Henry. "I'm sorry for this."

 _"It happens, it happens._ " She replied with the same calm voice. Ms. French must deal with so much shit in her day, that a few worms in the desk must be nothing. But still, Emma had to ask --

"Whose desk did he put it in?"

" _Mr. Gold_ ," she responded.

 _Yeah,_ Emma thought, _that sounds about right._

See, Henry was overall a really good kid, but there was something about Mr. Gold that got under Henry's skin, and frankly, Emma's as well. He was an older man who walked with a limp. Your first impression of him would typically be " _Oh, this poor_ _man_ ," but after he graded Henry rather harshly on the last two exams, and refused to up Henry's grade by one point so he could make honors last year, yeah...Emma didn't really mind Henry putting worms in his desk.

For the third time.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. French, I truly am. I'm going to speak to Henry about it tonight."

" _Just one more thing, Ms. Swan._ " Ms. French took a deep breath and continued speaking a tone of voice that made Emma think that the teacher really didn't want to be saying this, but felt like she must. " _Henry has been talking a lot about his father lately._ "

Oh God no.

" _Last week he was telling the other students that his father is a firefighter in Arizona and he saved many people's lives. I almost believed that until this morning, he was telling them how his father is a spy for the FBI. I thought you might want to know._ "

Emma grabbed onto the counter and took a few deep breathes. She knew that Henry was having a hard time letting his father go, but she didn't realize it was this bad, honestly. "Again, I apologize, Ms. French. I will speak to him about it."

" _Thank you for being so understanding_ ," his teacher said before hanging up.

Once the phone was back in the holder, Emma turned around to see Ruby standing there with her hands on her hips. When she saw Emma's expression, her face and arms soften. "Oh no. What did Henry do?"

"He put worms in the teacher's desk."

Ruby waved an arm. "Oh, I did a load worse when I was his age. I'm sure Granny can tell you all about it."

"I don't doubt it," Emma replied. She took a deep breath before leaning on the counter. "But he was telling his friends about his father."

Ruby leaned on the opposite side and muttered, "Oh shit," under her breath. With her shoulder slumped, her long brown hair fell forward and made almost a curtain around her face. When she looked back up, she said, "What are you going to do?"

Emma shrugged, "Talk to him, obviously. You know he's still holding onto hope that Neal is going to come magically back into his life and all will be forgiven."

"Well, he is eight years old. And he has seen a lot of Disney movies."

Emma raised an eyebrow and muttered, "If you're trying to help me, I can assure you, you are not."

"Sorry." Ruby shook her head before continuing, "That jackass really is something, huh? Gets you pregnant at seventeen and while yeah, he stayed with you and all, continued doing shady business on the side."

"You know that I thought he was done with that, of course."

"Right, of course," Ruby nodded with agreement. "And then he..." she shook her head, too angry to continue.

"I know," Emma muttered.

They stood there in silence for a good thirty seconds before Granny called, "Well, I'm glad I'm paying ya to just stand there and _talk_!"

Emma sighed before picking up the pot of coffee and going over to table seven.

~*~

Emma put the car in park, but put her hand on Henry's arm before he could get out. "We need to talk."

He sighed. "I'm sorry about the worms, Mom. But he's asking for it."

She let go before putting her hands back on the steering wheel. "No, that's not...Well, yeah, you should apologize for that too, because come on, Henry," she finished, exasperated. "Worms? Really? I know the guy is a jackass and all, but instead of not treating him with respect, just.... ignore him."

"How do I ignore my teacher?"

"You prove that you are not who he thinks you are," she insisted. "He thinks you're a troublemaker now, Henry, and you're not. I know you are not. But putting worms in his desk is not telling him that."

He nodded. She took a deep breath.

"But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." Henry looked at her curiously, but she couldn't look at him. Instead, she stared at a gate that was badly chipping from rusted paint as she said, "It's about your father. And the stories you're making up."

He looked down and started picking at his nails. "I know he's not working for the FBI, but where is he?"

 _Probably running from the FBI_ , she thought before she answered honestly, "I don't know, kid. I really don't know."

"When is he coming back?"

Looking at him, she said softly, "He's not, Henry."

His bottom lip started to quiver before he tugged the handle bar open and jumped out of the car. "Henry!" she shouted as he ran off to a tree right near their house. He began climbing it, and by the time Emma reached the bottom, he was sitting on a branch a good five feet off the ground.

She crossed her arms as she looked up at him. "Henry Swan, you get down this instant!"

"He's coming back!" Henry shouted.

She shook her head. _Why couldn't Neal just say his damn good-bye so I didn't have to put up with this?_ "Henry, you need to get down!"

"No! He promised! And Dad never breaks his promises!"

 _I wish._ Thinking of the engagement ring burning a hole in the bottom of her jewelry box, she could think of a few promises that Neal Cassidy broke over the course of the last ten years.

"Henry, you need to get down." When he didn't budge, she answered, "Fine! I'll donate all of your toys to charity!"

Leaning on the tree, Henry crossed his arms. Sometimes he was too much like Emma for his own good.

"Henry!"

" _Henry Swan, you get down now!_ "

Emma turned to see her best friend come walking towards them, her stomach leading the way. Being six months pregnant didn't necessarily mean a huge belly, but when one is the size of a pixie, like Mary Margaret Nolan, a pregnant stomach tads to stick out more than usual.

Mary Margaret was also a school teacher, who perfected her teaching voice a long time ago. So Henry had no problem coming down when she told him to.

"Thanks," Emma muttered.

"No problem. What happened?" she whispered as Henry grunted his way down.

"We got into a fight about Neal."

"Oh geez," she commented as Henry's feet hit the cold ground. Having a best friend meant that she understood what Emma was talking about, even when she said almost nothing. "Henry, why we don't go in a make a nice hot cup of hot chocolate?"

"Do you mind watching him ‘til six?" Emma asked. She had already spoken to Mary Margaret about her watching Henry while Emma went back to work, but she just wanted to make sure it was all okay.

"Yeah, yeah, no problem. Henry can help grade me second-grade tests."

"Really?" he asked with a bright smile.

She smiled back as she combed his hair with her fingers. "No."

~*~

"Do you believe in angels?"

Mary Margaret looked over at Henry, the credits rolling on _It's a Wonderful Life_ on the screen behind him. She laid down her pen, and leaned back in the chair, rubbing her belly as she did so.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Henry got up from the floor and walked over to the table, putting his hands on the chair in front of him. "Why?"

She shrugged. "It's a nice thought, I guess. Thinking that someone is looking out for us."

"Like in that movie?"

"Kind of. I mean, I don't think an angel is going to show me how everyone's life would be different if I wasn't there, but I do think angels try to help out when they can."

"How?"

She got up and groaned a bit as she did. "Oh, geez, well I'm not sure. Maybe they help you decide what job to have. Or help you cross the street so you don't get hurt."

"Can they help bring a family together?"

Henry's innocent question made her stop in her tracks. Mary Margaret knew she had to answer this question as honestly as she could without giving the kid false hope. Having hope is one thing, but having false hope - that can be soul crushing, especially to an eight-year-old.

"Well, if the angel thought that it was the best thing for the family, then sure. Yeah. Maybe they can help bring a family together."

Henry grinned so wide, his two front teeth were clearly visible. Mary Margaret came over to him, though, and bent down as low as she could go before she continued sternly. "But you have to be very lucky to have an angel come and visit you. You would have to be the best child in the world for something like that to happen."

Henry nodded. "I am a good boy. Except for when I put worms in Mr. Gold's desk. But I promised I would never do that again. Because I'm a good boy."

Mary Margaret stood back up and held onto the chair. "And no more climbing that tree!"

He held up his fingers as though doing a Boy Scout three finger promise. "I promise I'm never going to climb that tree again."

She chuckled before shaking her head and turning towards the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Henry following behind her asked, "How do we see the angels, though?"

"Well," she said, grabbing a glass from the cabinet. She asked if he wanted water too, and he nodded. Grabbing a second glass, she continued. "I think they look like us, right? Nothing particularly special about them --"

"But they have wings!" Henry interrupted. "Where are their wings?!"

As Mary Margaret poured the water from the pitcher into the glasses, she replied, "They must hide their wings inside, so we don't see them."

"They would leave feathers all over the floor!"

She chuckled as she placed the pitcher back down. "Henry, I'm sure that the angels know how to hide their wings _and_ their feathers from us."

"Why would they want to hide the fact that they're angels? Angels should want to help people, not hide from them!

Handing him his glass she said, "True. But people can take advantage of the angel and the help they can bring."

"What does that mean?"

"Sometimes when people try to help, others....well, they don't know how to stop asking for help. They just take more and more and more. So angels have to hide who they really are."

He took a gulp before asking, "But how do I _know_ if there is an angel around if I can't see their wings?"

Mary Margaret took a sip before answering. "Good question. When you hear something like the tinkling of bells, but there are no bells, that's means there is an angel nearby."

He nodded again seriously before taking another big gulp and putting his glass on the table next to him. "I'm going to leave my listening ears on, to make sure I can hear the bells."

She nodded with a smile. "Sounds like a good plan."

Just then there as a knock on the door, and Henry went running to it, yelling, "Mommy! Mommy!" He threw open the door, and sure enough his mother was on the other side, looking exhausted but still had a huge smile on her face.

"Henry!" She shouted with joy. He gave her a big hug before asking for pizza for dinner. "Sure, kid. Why not?"

She was just reaching for his book bag, when Mary Margaret's husband came up behind her. "Oh good, you're still here," he said when he saw Emma. "I need to talk to you."

Emma looked over at Mary Margaret, who shrugged. "Okay..." She said taking Henry's bag and throwing it over her shoulder. "What's up?"

"No, this is a couch conversation," David insisted as he gestured to the couch before taking off his jacket and scarf. Emma and Henry sat down on the couch, Mary Margaret sitting in the arm's chair as David paced back and forth in front of them. When he finally stopped, he only said one thing:

"Please don't kill me."

Mary Margaret and Emma looked at each other, while Henry looked up at his mother. All three looked at David as Emma said, "That doesn't sound reassuring."

Mary Margaret asked, "What's going on, David?"

"It has to do with Emma. And Henry. Both of you."

"David, _what_ is going on?"

"Okay, so our CEO, Mr. Marco Woodman is coming in a few days to discuss branching out and making London the new headquarters for Woodman's Architect."

"Okay...Why would this lead anyone to kill you?"

"I'm getting to that. You see, him coming is a really big deal, especially to Killian, the CFO of the branch here, in America. If Mr. Woodman likes Killian, he'll have Killian oversee everything, which is a huge deal."

"David, stop circling the airport," Emma said, leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Bring this baby down."

"What?" Henry asked, confused by what his mother meant.

"She means, get to the point!" Mary Margaret almost shouted.

"Okay, okay. So Mr. Woodman is the definition of a family man and Killian, who is a good guy, I should point out, is not a family man. So Regina may have...tweaked his image a bit."

"Tweaked it how?" Mary Margaret asked. "By giving him a family?"

Emma's arms dropped. So did her stomach. She tilted her head down, looking up at David. "And, what exactly, does this have to do with me and Henry?"

David held out his hands. "Please don't kill me."

"David!" Mary Margaret and Emma shouted at the same time.

"David, what the hell?!"

"Look, you're going to get paid," he said quickly, like that would make up for the fact that he basically sold his friend and her child to a man. "You are. One thousand dollars a day. And you're only working two days. A thousand dollars a day."

 _Two extra thousand dollars doesn't sound too bad,_ Emma thought, almost hating herself. _That can help when looking for a bigger apartment_.

“I can’t believe you sold Henry and me out!” she shouted. “David, what were you thinking?!”

“That this could help you, honestly.” David looked at Henry before looking back at Emma. “I know that things are…tough, right now, and I thought that this could help make some things a little easier. It’s very simple: all you and Killian have to do is pretend you’re married—”

“Killian?” Mary Margaret asked from her seat.

David looked over at her before answering. “Yes.”

Mary Margaret bit her lip and Emma noticed. “What? What’s the problem?”

“No. No problem,” she said quickly. When Emma raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms, Mary Margaret continued. “It’s just—”

“I knew there was a problem!” Emma shouted.

Mary Margaret tried to get up quickly, but it took her a few extra minutes to stand in front of her best friend. “There isn’t. Really. I’ve met Killian on many different occasions. In fact, I can’t believe the two of you haven’t met before.”

“I’ve been a bit busy these last few years,” Emma said before pointedly looking down at Henry who was taking this conversation in.

Mary Margaret nodded. “Of course, yes. And Killian is a nice man. Really. He’s just…”

“You’re not helping, Mary Margaret,” David groaned.

“No, no, no! It’s just he’s…been around the block a few times.”

“Like on his bicycle?”

The three adults were taken back by Henry’s innocent question and David found himself nodding. “Yes. Yes, _exactly_ like that, Henry.”

“I’m not doing it,” Emma answered sternly as she shook her head. “No way. I don’t care about him,” she looked down at Henry before continuing, “ _riding his bicycle_ or whatever. My son and I are not for sale.”

As she gestured to Henry to get his coat, David stood in front of her blocking her path. “Look, before you fully say—”

“No!”

He closed his eyes before trying again. “Yeah, before you say that, just meet him. Please. You know that I am a tough person to impress, and Killian has impressed me. He’s a close friend.”

“So why haven’t I met him before?”

“Honestly, I don’t know how. But you can meet him tomorrow. You and Henry. He invited you to his house.”

“He has a house?” Henry asked.

“Where did you think he lived, kid? A mouse trap?” Emma asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Henry colored a bit before replying. “No…No, I mean, he doesn’t live in an apartment, like us? He lives in a house?”

David nodded. “Yeah, and it’s huge.”

Henry smiled. “Would I have my own room?”

David nodded again. “Of course, buddy. That was the first question I asked.”

Henry smiled even bigger. “With a big bed in it and toys and a desk and –”

“ _All_ of that, Henry! All of it!” David replied esthetically.

“Mom,” Henry quickly turned to his mother and started pulling on her jacket. “Mom, we have to meet him. We _have_ to! I could have my own room, Mom, a big room!”

Emma sighed before looking at David. Sarcastically she said, “Thanks.” He gave a small shrug before Emma rubbed her son’s head and said, “Henry it’s not that simple.”

“Why not, Mom? We just hang out at his house for two days and you get money. How is that hard?”

“Well, it’s a little harder than that, kid,” Emma said sitting on the couch and placing her hands on her son’s shoulders. “It’s not just hanging out at someone’s house for two days. It’s…well, it’s pretending that we live there. It’s pretending that it’s…it’s our home.”

“Are we going to go back to the apartment?”

“When the two days are up, yeah.”

“Oh.”

Emma hated that he sounded disappointed about that. She cleared her throat before saying, “Listen, kid, this isn’t going to be real, okay? It’s like…it’s like playing pretend. Actually, it’s a lot like playing pretend. We just have to pretend to be…one happy family.” She looked down before letting go of Henry’s shoulders. “You think you can do that?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! Sure can!”

She sighed before standing back up. “I’m sure I’ll have a thousand questions, but...Okay. Let’s meet him. I’m not agreeing to doing this, though.”

David nodded. “Understood. I’ll call Killian and let you know what time he’ll be expecting you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can assure you, next chapter Killian and Emma will be meeting.


	3. Chapter 3

Killian rubbed the back of his neck before sitting down on his couch. After a moment, he bounced up and began pacing in front of said couch before he sat down on one of the armchairs. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he used both hands to rub this neck before he jumped back up again.

“ _Would you calm down_?!” Regina all but screamed at him as he paced once more. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“You have to say that because you got me into this mess,” he commented.

She sighed. “I’d apologize, but if this works, then you can send me a very expensive bottle of champagne as thank you.”

He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes – barely – before continuing, “Let’s get through this before anyone starts celebrating.”

Regina sighed before looking at her phone once more. “It’s going to be fine, Jones. I’m sure this…Emma person is fine and so is her son. Besides, it’s only two days. It’s not like you’re going to have to be _married_ to her forever.”

He sighed. He knew she was she right. It wasn’t forever; it was barely even 48 hours. Mr. Woodman would be arriving Friday night, and be leaving Sunday morning. So it was only Friday evening and all of Saturday that he had to worry about. By Sunday night, his life would return to normalcy – except for the fact that he could be moving to London and being the manager of the London branch. Which he would love, since that would bring him closer to his brother and his family.

He sat down before leaning his head back on the chair. He actually spoke to his brother last night about this whole…arrangement, and well, Liam had a few chose words for him.

“ _Are you mad, brother_?!” he yelled. “ _What the bloody hell are you thinking_?! _Lying to impress your boss_?! _That has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of_!”

He wasn’t wrong, which made this whole situation worse. Liam was right; lying to Mr. Woodman would blow up in his face, surely. What would happen when Mr. Woodman goes to London and wants to visit Killian and his “family”? There are so many times he could say “They’re visiting her family” until it looks like he just made them up. Which he did. Well, at least, Regina did. But at that point, who the bloody hell would care?

Not that Killian wasn’t worried about who exactly this Emma woman and her son were. He can’t believe that he never met her before, seeing how close he and David are. After David told them that he would ask Emma if she would even consider it, he told Killian that his wife and Emma were the best of friends, almost like sisters. In fact, he went on to say, “Emma is kind of like my sister too.” So, how in the world have they not met before?

But, putting that aside for the moment, what was this woman even like? They had to pretend to be married, for God’s sake, hopefully there would be some kind of…attraction. Killian wasn’t the best actor on a good day, his brother’s words ringing in his head: “ _You always wear your heart on your sleeve, Killian. I always know how you’re feeling with just a glance in your direction_.” If he wasn’t attracted to Emma, this could be a small problem.

“ _It’s just for weekend_ ,” Regina’s words echoed. Well, that was true too. He could pretend for less than 48 hours. At least, he was sure that he could.

But what about her kid? What if he was a horrible little thing, totally spoiled? Killian was…okay with kids. He wasn’t really around them enough to decide whether or not he had a strong opinion about them. They seemed fine, from a distance. But now he was going to have one. In his house. What the hell did he get himself into?

Before he could really start panicking, which honestly was going to be any minute now, the doorbell rang.

“Thank God,” Regina sighed before she got up to get the bell. “Honestly, they must have taken the long way to get here.”

Killian was hot on her heels, following behind. He tried to look confident, but was afraid that his nerves were just overcoming his face. Regina had her hand on the doorknob before she looked back at him.

“Ready?”

He nodded.

Regina opened the door to reveal David, a young boy with light brown hair and brown eyes, and a woman that was probably the same age as David, if not a little younger.

The woman, though…

_Bloody hell._

She was beautiful. She had a heart shaped face, with a small dimple at the chin, light green eyes and blonde hair that even in a ponytail touched between her shoulder blades. But even though she looks a little different now, he would know her anywhere. When she noticed Killian, her eyes grew bigger and her mouth dropped a little.

“Oh. You” was all she said.

David looked at Emma before looking at Killian. “Do you two know each other?”

“I’m Henry!” the little boy piped up. He was a cute kid, with some bottom teeth missing, and his eyes bright. He ran over to Killian before putting his hand out like he wanted to shake hands. “I’m going to be your son.”

Killian chuckled before taking the kid’s hand. Well, if nothing else, the kid at least broke some of the tension in the room.

“Nice to meet you, Henry. I’m Killian. I’ll be playing the role of your dad.”

Henry let go of Killian’s hand before tilting his head. “You speak like the people on that television show Mary Margaret and Mom watch. Are you British?”

Killian nodded. “I am indeed. I’m from a small town outside of London. My brother lives there now, with his wife and child.”

“Cool! I always wanted to go to London!”

“Since when?” Emma asked. Killian’s eyes found hers and for a moment they looked at each other before she looked down at her son.

“I just do,” Henry insisted before taking a step further into the house. “Can I see my room?”

“Er, sure.”

Regina stepped up and said, “It’s upstairs and to the left. Let me show you. I’m Regina, by the way.”

“Are you the Evil Queen? That’s what Uncle David calls you.”

“Uncle David” became fascinated with his shoes and wouldn’t glance at Regina, even though she was giving him the death glare.

When they went upstairs, David repeated his earlier question, “Do you two know each other?”

Emma nodded. “I…I think so. We might have" she cleared her throat, "…met before.”

Killian agreed. “Yeah. About two years ago?”

She nodded again. “Right. Yeah.”

David looked at the two of them before asking, “Do I want to know what happened?”

Killian and Emma looked at each other, and for a moment all Killian could feel was her skin under his hands, and his lips against hers.

Emma spoke up, bringing Killian back to the present. “Probably not,” she muttered before looking down, her cheeks a light red. He wondered if she was suddenly brought back to that moment too.

“You both were so sure that you didn’t know each other,” David insisted.

Killian clear his throat before looking at his friend. “We never got each other’s names.”

He looked at Emma, his heart pounding even harder than it was earlier.

Well, he didn’t have to worry about being attracted to her. Because he knew for a fact that he was.

~*~

It had to be him, didn’t it? Of all the freaking people in the world, the man that she might be “married” to for 48 hours had to be _him_!

Emma cleared her throat, trying to get moisture back into her mouth. She was a nervous reck all morning, wondering just what in blazes she was even thinking to even agree to this stupid idea. She almost backed out about three times, before Mary Margaret calmed her down, claiming that this would be a good thing. An extra two thousand dollars could help her as she goes looking for a nicer (or at least bigger) apartment.

But _him_?

“Where did you two meet?” David innocently asked.

Emma looked over at…Killian and answered, “Actually, at your birthday party about two years ago?” she finished as a question, unsure if her time was right.

Killian nodded. “Two years sounds about right.”

“I didn’t know that,” David exclaimed. He thought for a moment before saying, “That’s when we went to The Rabbit Hole. So you two have met?”

Emma looked down, her cheeks blushing though she wished they wouldn’t. “Yeah, something like that.”

All three were silent for a moment before David asked, “I really don’t want to know, do I?”

Killian gave a smile that was almost dashing as he proclaimed, “No. No, you do not.”

Emma looked up at Killian and gave a small smile. Killian winked at her before gesturing to the hallway behind him. “Shall we?”

For the first time since seeing the outside (which, yeah, David told Henry and her that it was huge, but _damn_ it was big), Emma looked around the house. They were currently standing in the hallway/foyer which alone was tremendous. To her left was the formal dining room and to the right looked like a bathroom. As they moved further into the house, the staircase was to the right, going straight up to the second floor, and to the right was the doorway to the kitchen. The back of the house was a massive living room, that had a couch big enough to fit the three of them comfortably, two winged chairs, and a fireplace that doesn’t look like it’s ever been used.

As Emma looked around, her mind still racing with discovering just who exactly she was helping out, she couldn’t help but notice that though the house was gorgeous, it lacked…something. She couldn’t put her finger on it exactly.

“Have a seat,” Killian said, gesturing to the couch. “Make yourself at home.”

“It could be your home,” David smiled at Emma. When she just looked at him, he cleared his throat once before saying, “You know for two days.”

“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” Henry yelled, running down the stairs.

Emma stood up and said, “In here, Henry!”

Regina must have told him where to go, for it took a few seconds longer for him to run in than it should have. But when he came into the room, his smile was bright and he looked thrilled with what he just saw.

“Mommy, the room is huge! So big! And the bed, Mommy, the bed is so bouncy. And it’s a big bed, like you have!”

“You need toys,” Regina said, sitting in one of the winged chairs before looking at Killian. “You need way more toys.”

Killian shrugged. “I figured Henry could bring some.”

Regina sighed and David shook his head. “Man, I know that you aren’t around a lot of children, but they have _a lot_ of toys.”

“Fine. We’ll get more toys.”

Emma, who was admiring the art work in the room, piped up, “You might need to get new things.”

Everyone was looking at her, which made her self-conscious. “What do you mean?” Killian asked. “What more could you possibly want in this house? It has everything.”

She nodded. “Yeah. It does. I mean, it’s beautiful, but…” She looked down at Henry, who smiled at her before taking off his school bag and taking his toy car out.

“But what?”

She looked up at him. “It doesn’t look like…like a _home_ , you know?”

Regina, David, and Killian looked around. Regina and David started to nod, as though in agreement with Emma, but Killian looked almost insulted.

“It’s a fine home,” he insisted.

“It is!” Emma proclaimed. “It is, it’s just…it doesn’t look lived in. At all.”

“I agree,” Regina said with a nod.

“What in bloody hell are you talking about?” Killian said, louder than he should have.

“Temper,” Regina muttered as a warning, loud enough for Killian to hear.

Henry looked up at him. “We have to use our nice words.”

Killian looked at him like he could not believe those words were just directed at him. Before he could make another comment, David piped up, “I agree. It’s kind of…cool.”

“Exactly! We need to make it look like we’re all here, living together.”

Killian rolled his eyes before asking, “And just what did you have in mind, oh wife-of-mine-for-48-hours?”

Emma crossed her arms and tilted her head. “Do you want my help or not? Because I can leave here and not look back, fine by me.”

Killian took a deep breath and counted silently to ten before asking in a calmer voice, “Sorry. What do you have in mind?”

Emma still had her arms crossed for a moment before she released them and opened her purse that was slung across her body. She took out some pictures before holding them up. “Family photos. Surely families have pictures of themselves around the house.”

Killian nodded. “Yeah, okay, we’ll get some picture frames for them.”

She handed them to him before she looked over to an empty space that was almost in the shape of a hexagon. “And here,” she added, “We could put the tree here.” 

“A tree?” Killian asked, as though he never heard of such a thing. “But Mr. Woodman is only going to be here for 48 hours!”

Emma turned to look at him. “A family with a young kid would definitely have a Christmas tree up the weekend before Christmas. Not a huge tree, mind you.” She looked back at the spot and for a moment and got lost in thought. She could almost see herself and Henry laughing as they put up the tree, and getting some old ornaments that Emma was able to scrounge around for. She smiled as she pictured Henry anxiously making sure the star on top was just right.

“Emma?”

She quickly looked behind her to see the three adults looking at her a bit curiously. “Sorry,” she said, before clearing her throat. “I just got lost in thought for a moment.”

Killian put Emma’s picture down on the coffee table before he sat down besides David. “Okay, so I imagine that you have some questions. Perhaps we should make sure that everyone involved knows their role before we start changing my house around.”

Emma nodded before going over to the other empty winged chair, and rubbed Henry’s head as she sat down. “Yes, I have some questions.” She cleared her throat before asking, “I’m getting my own room, right?”

“Yep. Next to the master’s suite is a small guest room. You’ll be sleeping in there.”

“And Mr. Woodman is staying here too?”

“Yes, there’s another room next to the library, which is where he will be sleeping.”

Emma went to ask another question before what he said registered in her brain. “Wait, next to the library…how many rooms are in this place?”

“A lot,” he said with a cocky smile.

Emma froze, looking at Killian and trying to remember how exactly she was supposed to breath. She hated that a small part of her was still….

No. No, she couldn’t think about that moment. She would get lost in her own thoughts again. 

Shaking her head, she continued, “What do we do with cooking and such? Because I can’t cook and I am certainly not cleaning up after you.”

“Well, I can cook if need-be,” he said, leaning forward. “As for cleaning, I have a maid.”

“House keeper,” David corrected.

Killian sighed before repeating, “House keeper. She’ll make sure everything is clean.”

“She knows what’s going on?”

“Yes. If you agree, she’ll meet with you and Henry to get acquainted.”

Emma nodded. “And this is next week, right?”

“Yes. The weekend of the nineteenth.”

Emma nodded once more. So the nineteenth and twentieth, Emma and Henry would be “working” for Killian. That still gave them four days to prepare for Christmas. Plus, Henry will be off from school for the Holiday break that week, so it’ll be even better.

Killian cleared his throat before asking, “So, do we have a deal?”

Emma looked at him and for a moment was brought back to that night three years ago.

  
“ _Perhaps_ you’re _the one who couldn’t handle it_ ,” she could see him smirking in her mind’s eye.

Shaking her head now, she cleared that imagine from her mind as she looked at Killian and replied, “Not so fast. I need to talk to my son.”

Putting her hand on his head, Emma leaned forward and said softly, “Listen, Henry, what—”

But she didn’t get to finish, because Henry yelled loudly, “Mommy, take it!”

Emma looked sheepishly up at Killian before standing up. She held out her hand and said, “It looks like you have a deal.”

Killian stood up and shook her hand as Regina jumped up and announced, “I now pronounce you husband and wife!”


	4. Chapter 4

**_TWO YEARS AGO_ **

_Emma laughed heartily. “No, no, no, please, Mary Margaret, please tell me you didn’t say that!”_

_Her best friend was laughing so hard, that she had one hand on Emma’s arm and the other on the table. “I did, Emma. I did –Oh! David’s face turned so red!”_

_“You threaten three guys that looked like Vikings!” Emma laughed harder. She wasn’t sure if it was the story that was so funny, or the fact that she had three glasses of rum and coke that just_ made _the story funny. “I’m sure David saw his life flash before his eyes!”_

_Mary Margaret took a deep breath, trying to control her laughter. Some giggles still came through as she said, “But I told you, I’m an excellent marks—mark—marksmmm—I can hit something really well.”_

_Her four glasses of margaritas were certainly making it harder for Mary Margaret to get her words out, but Emma laughed anyway._

_She looked down at her phone and when she noticed that Neal called again, she groaned._

_“Neal?” Mary Margaret asked as she raised her (fifth) glass of margarita up to her lips._

_“Yeah. Guy can’t take a hint.” I don't want to talk to him."_

_“Maybe you should just…I don’t know? Ignore him?” she asked in such a way that she wasn’t suggesting it._

_Emma sighed. “I wish I could, but--”_

_“But Henry, yeah." She sobered up before asking, "I thought things were getting better, yeah? Like, I thought you kind of liked him again.”_

_“I did. But—”_

_Mary Margaret reached out and grabbed Emma’s bicep. She opened her mouth to say something, looking dead into Emma’s eyes, when she squeezed the bicep again and looked down at it. “God, girl, when do you work out? You’re toned as hell.”_

_“I’ve got a demanding job and a six-year-old. I work out to relieve stress.”_

_Mary Margaret let go of Emma’s arm before raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t Neal supposed to help relieve stress too? Or someone else, at least.” she asked with a suggestive wink. Or, at least that’s what she was going for, but it was more like a blink._

_“You’d think,” Emma snorted. “I don’t even know the last time I got any ”_

_“And you’ve haven’t even been married for ten years for that to fizzle out.” Mary Margaret was certainly more direct when she some liberations in her. “I take it there is no spark any more.”_

_Emma rolled her eyes. “Sparks are from Romance novels, and movies made in the_ _2000s. Nobody has sparks.”_

_“David and I have sparks.”_

_“You and David are in another category that no one else will ever live up to.”_

_Mary Margaret shook her head, and Emma knew that she was going to give her some hope speech that, in all honestly, Emma probably heard about three hundred times already. Before she could fully launch into her speech, Emma grabbed her bag from the table and told her best friend she needed the bathroom._

_She walked (more like stumbled) towards through the bar, excusing herself when she bumped into someone and shook her head as she thought about her best friend and her husband._ Another category, indeed. _Mary Margaret and David made falling in love (and staying in love) look so easy. And while life for Emma Swan hasn’t been easy, love has been even worse._

_Just thinking about Neal made Emma so mad she was seeing red. Her thoughts on Neal and how much she currently hated him consuming her, that she stumbled once more into the bathroom door. Only it opened as she fell and a pair of strong arms grabbed her around her waist._

_“Aye, watch it love,” said a voice she wasn’t sure she actually heard before. Mainly because it sounded like music to her ears, but also because whoever this man was spoke with an English accent. Kind of like the Tenth Doctor, from_ Doctor Who. _That kind of accent._

_“Sorry,” she muttered as she gathered herself. Once she was standing up (semi) straight, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and almost gagged on her spit. For standing in front of her, leaning down just a tad so he was able to look in the eye with no difficulties, was a movie star._

_Okay, not really a movie star, but one that certainly looked like he should have been on the main guy in a rom-com. With piercing blue eyes, dark hair, and a five o’clock shadow she was sure would be rough to the touch, he might as well have just walked off of a set._

_Emma hadn’t seen herself in a while, but she knew that her mascara was probably rubbed all over her eyes, and some of her make-up was in need of a touch up. She’d count herself lucky if her long blonde hair actually looked good, instead of looking like it needed a good brushing (like it usually did by this point in a night)._

_“Well, well, well,” the man smiled down at Emma, and Holy. Shit. Seriously, where did this guy come from? “What do we have here?”_

_“A girl who needs the bathroom,” she insisted._

_The man’s smile turned more into a grin. “Of course. What kind of gentleman would I be if I blocked the lady from her destination?”_

_He didn’t move, and Emma wasn’t steady enough on her feet to push him. “Dude, let me pass.”_

_He shook his head a little, as though he was lost in thought, and said, “Right. Of course,” and step aside._

_Emma walked towards the door and as she went to close it, realized he was still standing there. “What? Are you going to protect me from any dragons?”_

_He laughed. “Dragons? Lass, what kind of bar do you think this is?”_

_“Well, you never really know,” she retaliated. “Some dude might be standing in front of the bathroom so he could try to flirt with someone who needs to pee.”_

_He laughed, and Emma swore she heard bells ringing. “I believe that, yes.”_

Who is this guy, _Emma thought to herself. She shook her head as she closed the door. A part of her hoped the guy would still be there when she opened it, while the other part of her hoped he was long gone. She didn’t know which side was winning._

_When she was finished and opened the door with a paper towel, sure enough the guy was still standing there._

_“My hero,” she joked as she took a step into the hallway, holding onto the wall for good measure._

_He grinned again, and Emma wished her heart didn’t pound at the sight. Good Lord, this man just_ grins _at her and her heart beats faster than when Neal actually touched her._

_“I’m a gentleman,” he retorts._

_Emma chuckles. “Sure. Right. A gentleman.”_

_His grin falters as he asks, “You doubt me, love?”_

_Leaning a little closer, almost pointing her finger in his face – she might actually be in his face, her equilibrium is completely off right now –she mutters, “You look more like a pirate than a dashing prince.”_

_She leans back, taking in his whole body, and good Lord, what has she gotten herself into? Wearing a dark button-down shirt with a navy (could be black too, it’s hard to tell in this hallway that isn’t too well lit) vest over it, and dark jeans, this man certainly looks like he walked right out of romance novel. Only, he’s the bad-boy-mama-warned-you-about._

_Emma licked her lips. The fact that she herself didn’t have a “mama” who could warn her about anything didn’t faze her right now, like it usually does. This man (and the alcohol) seem to have that effect on her._

_“I prefer a dashing rapscallion,” he smirked, a small dimple appearing on his cheek._

And he has dimples?! _Emma’s mind screamed._

_She shook her head at him, “You’re something else, I tell you.”_

_He smiled at her, and she was sure that the room tilted just a tad. “I get that a lot.” Looking at her lips before looking back into her eyes, he commented, “Don’t I get something for protecting you against the dragons?”_

_Her mind was foggy, but now it was crystal clear. It was her turn to smirk. “Really? You ‘protect’ me against imaginary dragons, and you want a favor? What kind of gentleman are you?”_

_“We discussed this, love,” he said, taking a step closer to her and almost whispering. “A dashing rapscallion.”_

_Emma could feel the heat in her cheeks, and her heart was pounding in her ears. She didn’t want to admit that this man (whatever his name was), has gotten her more excited in the last ten minutes than Neal has in the last few years._

_“You couldn’t handle it,” she flirted._

_He raised an eyebrow and watched her carefully. “Perhaps_ you’re _the one who couldn’t handle it,” he whispered back._

_Looking him in the eyes before looking at his lips, Emma made up her mind before she could fully register it. Grabbing his shirt tightly, she pulled him closer to her and smashed her lips against his. And as much as she wanted to admit that he was all talk, he most certainly was not. His lips moved with hers in a rhythm that she has never been able to establish with any other guy she has been with. It was almost like he knew she wanted, which was impossible, because they never even met before._

_She kissed him harder, her hands letting go of his shirt to work their way around his neck. He, too, was busy, his hands first around her waist before one hand went into her hair and gently, oh so gently, held onto her golden locks like they were his life-line._

_He went to pull back, but Emma took a step closer to him (any closer, honestly, and she would actually be in his pants) and pulled him back in. He didn’t protest, but instead kissed her back even harder._

_Finally, the need for air was too great and Emma leaned back, her forehead just grazing his. He was breathing just as deeply as she was, his hands running smoothly though her hair._

_“That was—” he started before Emma’s phone rang._

_She let go of him and pulled back completely before taking her phone out of her back pocket. It was her babysitter._

_“Shit,” she muttered, reading the text. Henry had a nightmare and was crying and calling out for his mother. She looked back up at him, and, though she couldn’t fully tell thanks to the darken hallway, he certainly looked rumpled and a bit…well, almost dazed. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”_

_“I—” he started, but she was already backing away._

_“Sorry, I don’t usually—This is an emergency.”_

_Before he could say another word, she was out of his arms and turned back towards the bar. She located Mary Margaret and told her what happened (about Henry, not about the guy she kissed passionately a few minutes ago), before leaving the bar altogether._

_She never saw the guy again._

Until now.

Emma shook her head, trying with all of her might to move on from that night. Because, while Killian was…quite something, it was obviously a one-time thing, and she needed to just…forget it.

Unfortunately, it would pop into her mind at the most inconvenient times, like when she was in the shower, making breakfast, or –

“It’s overflowing.”

Quickly looking down, Emma realized that this person’s water glass was most certainly overflowing. Grabbing napkins from the table adjacent to it, she soaped up as much as she could before telling the patron that she was going to get a towel. Once she returned and cleaned up the mess, with more apologizes, she turned back to the kitchen.

“You’ve been awfully distracted lately. Something on your mind?”

Giving a quick glance her way, Emma saw the wolfish grin. Shaking her head, and focusing (seriously focusing) on measuring the correct amount of sugar into the containers, she replied, “No.”

Ruby chuckled. “Oh, Emma. You might be able to tell when people are lying to you, but you are a horrible liar yourself. Girl, just _talk_ to me. I know you want to.”

“And I know that I want you to do the job that I pay you to do,” Granny said from behind them. Emma almost kissed her for saving her from this conversation. “Get back to work, Ruby.”

“Yes ma’am,” she replied in a huff, obviously disappointed that she’s not getting the information she clearly wanted.

Emma shook her head before muttering to the older woman, “Did you tell her?”

“It slipped out. I’m sorry. The second it came out of my mouth, I knew that I made a huge mistake.”

Of course, Emma had to tell Granny why she wouldn’t be working on her two busiest days of the week. She tried to make it sound classier than it truly was, because Emma wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being paid to pretend to be married to some dude.

Though, people _do_ pretend to be other people for money. It’s called acting. Still, it made Emma a bit uncomfortable. Though, it might have something to do with the fact that she’s kind of, in a small way, attracted to Killian.

But she wasn’t too worried about that part. Because it would only be for 48 hours – less than that really, when you take into account that for 16 hours of that they will be asleep. In different bedrooms. Like it should be.

Emma was walking into a disaster.

“Think nothing of it,” Emma insisted to calm the woman’s nerves. “I’m sure that it would have come out sooner or later.”

“You need Friday, Saturday, _and_ Sunday?”

Emma sighed. “Well, Friday afternoon. Closer to evening. I’m taking Henry over right after I pick him up from school.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Um,” Emma bit her lip, unsure of how to even continue. “We need to prepare. I…Henry and I need to get outfits ready and bring some things from the apartment to make it look…Well, to make his house look like home, if that makes any sense.”

Granny nodded. “Makes perfect sense, actually. Though they better not ruin that hair,” she said, gently touching Emma’s golden locks.

She gave a small laugh. “I don’t think they’re going to change that. No, I know he’s hiring some people to dress me and Henry up, for a lack of better term. So it looks like…”

“Like you come from money?”

“Or at least married into it, yeah.” Emma put down the sugar container and the cup she was using to measure it, and whispered to Granny something that has been bothering her. “It’s just…Granny, I don’t think I can act. You know, like I have money. I have been barely able to get by with what I make here. Tips included. I don’t think—”

“Emma Swan, you don’t need to act like anyone else other than yourself. If Kevin –”

“Killian,” Emma corrected.

But Granny ignored her and kept talking. “—Doesn’t appreciate that your saving his ass from whatever the hell it is that he got himself swept up in, honey, you march right out of that house and don’t you dare look back.” 

Emma laughed. “I’ll do exactly that.”

~*~

“David, what in bloody hell is going on?”

Killian came home to find…well, just about everything in his house was gone. His expensive couch, gone. His formal dining room, gone. All of his old books, gone. Instead there was a couch that was probably expensive, but it looked worn in, with two winged chairs on either side of it different colors, but still kind of looking like a set. His long table gone, instead there a slightly smaller table with chairs that aren’t in perfect condition. His books (he hopes were put into storage) are replaced with books that range from Jane Austen to J.M. Barrie along with some pictures of Emma and Henry, Henry growing up, and one photo that was photoshopped of Emma, Henry, and Killian all smiling on the beach. Killian picks that photo up and if you look at it really closely, you can see that it’s a fake, but otherwise he might have thought this actually happened.

“Hey!” David said, coming out of kitchen with a bag of chips. “Yeah, we’re just moving the furniture around, trying to make it look like a family.”

“And where is my actual furniture?”

“In storage. Don’t worry, I didn’t throw out your precious First Edition of _Moby Dick_.”

“I don’t have a –” Killian looked at the huge pile of toys in the corner of the room and gestured to it. “David?”

He looked at Killian before shrugging. “Dude, you’re supposed to have an eight-year-old boy. Just be glad if it actually stays in that pile.”

Killian shook his head before putting both hands on the sofa in front of him (and damn it, it’s actually really soft). David wrapped the bag in of itself before placing it on the table behind the couch and asking, “Just what did you think this weekend was going to entail? We need to make it look _real_. So why do you have a stick up your butt?”

“I don’t know. I just…I thought I was living a good life, you know, and then…I realized it was, how did you say it? _Cool_.”

“You know that I love your house,” David defended.

But he waved him off. “Aye, I know. It’s not that. It’s just…maybe I haven’t been living my life the way I expected. Bloody hell, I’m almost thirty-five and I have to _pretend_ to be married with a kid. I’m not even dating anyone to make it seem real.”

“Look I know you and Emma just met—”

“We met two years ago.”

David was silent before saying softly, “That’s _right._ And I don’t want to know, right?”

“I didn’t sleep with her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, I definitely heard enough,” David said, getting up from the couch. He moved to grab the bag of chips off the table before he said, “You know that if you hurt her, I’m going to hurt you, yeah?”

Killian nodded. “Understood.” Putting his hands in his pockets, he rocked on his heels once, twice, three times before stopping and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Okay, mate, when will this be done?”

David had a box of his own on the coffee table that was labeled _Photos_ in a handwriting that was very much _not_ David’s. He didn’t recognize it, though it did look feminine. If he had to wager, he would bet that it was Emma’s box.

Taking a picture frame out of the box, David sat down on the couch before putting his hand back into the box and taking out a smaller one. Once that was opened, he pulled out a stack of photos and Killian almost groaned at the thought that now they were going to have to go through that bloody pile of photos so it would look like Emma and Henry lived in the house and weren’t just visiting.

“Not sure,” David responded distractedly. He was looking through the pile, one by one, before finding one that seemed to appease him. Flipping the six by four frame over, David opened it up before placing the photo in it. Once he was securing it, he continued. “The movers said they only needed a couple of hours, and Regina claims they should have everything in place by ten o’clock.”

“ _Tonight_?” Killian looked at his watch. It was barely past five. That means they were going to be in his house for another _five hours_? Bloody hell.

Getting up and taking the frame with him, David placed the photo on the bookshelf before going back to the couch to take out another frame and pick out another photo. Killian wished that he had a glass of rum on him, or anything really that had alcohol in it, because holy hell, this was going to be a process, wasn’t it?

“Why do you seem so shocked?” David asked as he sat back down. “They’re trying to make it look like a family lives here, especially one with a kid. Do you really not know that children have a lot of things?”

Killian walked over towards the photo David placed on the shelf. “I’m sure I did— _Bloody hell!_ ”

“What?!”

Killian turned back towards David, the picture frame in his hand. “Why is there a photo of Emma, Henry, and myself standing in front of Cinderella’s Castle?”

“Oh,” David sighed, relieved that that was all it was. Killian was just about to loose it, but luckily his friend was eerily calm. “They photoshopped that. To make it look like you took vacations together. You know, as a family.” David stopped what he was doing and focused on his friend. “Are you sure you’re alright? You seem sort of…jumpy.”

“I’m not jumpy,” he yelled, but when the response was only a raised eyebrow, Killian decided to answer a little more truthfully. “I kind of am, I guess. It’s just…mate this is a big deal. One that might not come around again, and I…I don’t like being dishonest. It’s one thing to win your battles, but it’s another to win fairly.”

“You think that just because you’re pretending to have a family that you have a leg up over the competition?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. I think it’s also that I don’t really _know_ Emma or Henry, so how can I--?”

“Oh!” David sat up straight, his eyes wide, an idea forming in his mind. “We should have you three sit around.” Before he could explain further, David grabbed his phone and began typing something rapidly.

When his friend got up off the couch, his phone still glued to his hand, Killian sighed and sat down on the vacate seat. He leaned over the box and saw a picture that must have been a real one. It was Emma and a much younger Henry, probably not even four-years-old, sitting in front of a Christmas tree. Emma was smiling down at the boy who was grinning at the camera with a missing tooth and a toy car held tightly in his lap. Killian focused on Emma’s face, the loving way she was looking at her son and sighed.

He knew, without a doubt, that he was in way over his head.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so terribly sorry for how long it is taking me to post this work. I appreciate those who are still holding on to see how Killian (and Emma) get out of this situation. I've just been hit with a string of bad luck, and I'm an in-person teacher so things have been kind of busy for me.
> 
> Since I don't have a beta, I try to read and reread my work to make sure that it makes sense and that the grammar is correct. Since I tend to lean towards perfection more often than not, it takes me a while to review my own stuff until I'm satisfied with it. 
> 
> Thank you to all of you who are sticking with me! Words cannot express how grateful I am!

“So it has come to our attention that perhaps a dinner between the three of you would be a good idea.”

Emma looked over at Killian who was looking up at Regina, like an obedient student following the teacher’s instructions. She then looked over at Henry, who was playing with his napkin. Okay, maybe he wasn’t playing with it as much as he was trying to get it to lay smoothly across his lap.

“Great idea,” Emma replied looking up at Regina. And it was a great idea, honestly, when David first brought it up to her. This way they can take care of all the details. All the small things that form when people spend a lot of time together, hashing out the particulars.

And the fact that they were eating hamburgers at Killian’s fancy ass dining room table made the whole juxtaposition that much funnier to Emma for some reason.

“I agree,” Killian piped up, taking the napkin off the table and placing it across his lap before reaching for the mustard bottle. “This way we can—”

“You like mustard on your hamburger?” Emma asked, probably more forcibly than she should have.

Killian looked at her before he finally grabbed onto the bottle. Opening it up with one hand, he replied, “Aye. Is that a deal breaker?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I just don’t think…I’ve ever met anyone who prefers mustard on their burger as opposed to ketchup.”

“I don’t like ketchup.”

Emma was squeezing the bottle itself when he made that declaration, and she almost squirted it all over herself. “How can you not like ketchup?”

“I just don’t.”

“I thought that we could discuss other kinds of details about ourselves,” Regina sighed, “then what condiments you liked on your food.”

“Right. Okay,” Emma replied placing the bottle back on the table before putting the top bun on top. She passed the bottle to Henry, who took it gladly. “So. What kind of questions?”

“How long have you two been married?”

“Ten years,” Killian replied at the same time Emma replied, “Twelve years.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “ _These_ are the kind of details I’m talking about, Ms. Swan.”

“Mrs. Jones,” David piped up, his mouth full of burger.

“What?” Killian asked, leaning forward.

“You’re not going to be ‘Ms. Swan,’ for the weekend, you’re going to be ‘Mrs. Jones.’”

“Oh,” Emma took her glass of soda and quickly took a sip. Why the idea of losing her last name (even temporarily) was something that made her want to blush was not something that she wanted to think about too deeply. “‘Course, yeah. Right.”

“Is this a problem, _Mrs. Jones_?” Regina asked pointedly.

“Nope. No problem at all,” she weakly responded.

“Do I have to change my name?” Henry piped up.

“Only for the weekend,” Regina said a nicer tone. At least Regina was nice to her kid, Emma thought. She had that going for her. “For that one weekend, you’re going to be Henry Jones. Is that alright?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, sounds good.” He then took a bite of his burger, the ketchup falling out of the other side. “What else do we need to know?”

“Okay,” Regina looked at Henry before giving an almost warm smile. “Henry, where was your favorite vacation?”

“Disney World!” he replied happily, bouncing in his seat. “I met Mickey Mouse and Peter Pan and Cinderella!” He then jumped up out of his chair and held out his arm, like he was holding a sword at the end. “Peter Pan was standing in front of the sign—”

“Adventureland sign,” Emma added, giving a small smile to Regina and Killian, who, she couldn’t help but notice, was intrigued with her son’s story and was actually looking at him when he spoke.

“Right, that sign. Anyway, we were walking along, and Peter Pan came out and said to me ‘Any pirates come this way?’ And I—” He looked at his mother, not sure on how to continue. “Mom? What did I say?”

“You cried, Henry,” she said with a chuckle. She looked at the adults at the table and informed them of the details Henry was leaving out. “Henry was like three at the time, and Peter Pan came out of nowhere. He got scared.”

“Oh, right. I got scared.” Henry sat back down before picking up his burger. “Anyway, I liked Disney World.”

“Okay,” Regina smiled before looking at a notepad next to her plate. She was using a knife and fork to eat. Figures. “Let’s see. Now, you should know some details about each other. Just in case.”

 _Just in case._ Emma has heard those words so many times over the course of the week she’s ready to scream. “Like what?”

“Family.”

Emma gestures to Henry. “You’re looking at it.”

“She means more than that, love,” Killian piped up, before sipping on his rum.

“I’m not your love,” she replied more harshly than she should have. “And that’s it. Just Henry.”

Killian looked at her, his eyes wide before asking in almost a dumbfounded way, “You don’t have anyone else?”

“Mommy’s an—” Henry starts to say before Emma cuts him off.

Emma, herself, however, looked down at her plate and asked, “Do we really need to get into all of this? I thought this Mr. Woodman guy was only staying for forty-eight hours. I don’t think he needs to know my life story.”

“Normally, I would say you were right, Emma,” David says as he wipes his mouth with the cloth napkin. “But we want to make sure that we’ve covered every spot. That includes,” he pauses before looking at her, “backstories.”

“No.” Emma puts her napkin next to her plate. That’s all she says before she pushes back her chair and gets up from the table, walking towards…well, she’s not really sure until she feels the cold air biting at her cheeks and realizes that her thin long sleeve shirt is not appropriate for the outdoors in December.

But she can’t do this. She can’t have a virtual _stranger_ know her story. No way. Yes, she’s attracted to Killian, she won’t deny that. But one kiss in the badly lit hallway does not mean that he gets to know her story. That he gets to know _her_. Besides, after the weekend is over, Henry and Emma will walk out of Killian’s life, and this Mr. Woodman guy will never see either of them again. So why does everyone need to know her story for one lousy weekend?

“My father abandoned my brother and I.”

Emma quickly turned around and saw Killian leaning against one of the pillars leading up to his front door. He was so casual about it, she was sure that she misheard him, because there was no way that he just—

“What?”

He looks up at her before straightening himself and walking closer to her. “My father abandoned my brother and I. I was seven years old when I woke one morning and he was gone.”

Her mind is racing from the conversation inside and now this one, that she shakes her head because she just can’t keep up with these conversations. “That’s, um –”

Because what do you say in reply to that?

“I’m telling you this,” he says, taking a step closer, though remaining a distance away from her, “because I want you to know that you don’t need to share your story if you’re not comfortable. I get it. I had a horrible childhood, but I don’t think Mr. Woodman is going to quiz us about it.” He pauses for a moment before saying, “I just want you to be comfortable.”

“Killian—”

“I know that I’m asking a lot, but knowing your backstory…that’s obviously private, and I don’t need to know it for this weekend. So,” he shrugs, “we make something up. If you want.”

“Make up my backstory?”

He nods. “Yeah. In case Marco asks. I don’t think he will, but you know. Something for us. Just in case.”

She huffs. “I’m so sick of those three words.”

He chuckles. “I know. Me too.” He looks at her for a second, and Emma thinks about that night, two years ago. It was clear that they made a connection, even if it was just lust. But it seems that they’re making another one right now. “I can’t do this without you. And I know you’re getting paid, and I know you don’t feel right about it—”

“Oh, I’m definitely taking your money. There’s no way that I’m not.”

He shakes his head with a small smile. “Of course. But you need to be comfortable about this.”

“Just like you need to be comfortable with your furniture being moved around,” she retorts.

He stills for a moment, asking, “How did you…” He sighs. “David.”

She nods. “Yeah, he and his wife are not great at keeping secrets. FYI.”

“I hope they can keep one for a weekend,” he mutters.

Emma crosses her arms, rubbing them as she says, “I’m sure they can.”

He looks at her for saying, “Bloody hell, you must be freezing.” Before she can say anything in response, he takes off his zipped up sweater and stepping closer, places it against her shoulders.

“You don’t have to—You’re going to be cold.”

He takes a step back. “Ah, the cold doesn’t bother me.”

She shakes her head before replying, “Okay, _Elsa_.”

He grins. “That’s my sister-in-law’s name.”

She smiles now, like she can’t believe it. “Get out. I didn’t think there was anyone actually named Elsa.”

“Oh yeah. When they met, my brother asked her if she wanted to let it go.”

She starts laughing before saying, “Oh God, no! He didn’t!”

“He did!” he laughs along with her. “She almost punched him! I was _dying_.”

“And she married him?”

He smirks. “Well, the Jones Brothers have a way with the ladies.”

She snorts as she shakes her head. “I think you just _think_ you have a way with the ladies.”

He takes a step closer and gives a wicked grin. “I have a memory from two years ago that disputes that, love.”

Emma looks to side and scoffs, hoping that he thinks the redness in her cheeks is nothing more than the wind. Clearing her throat (and her mind from the memories from that night), instead she replies, “Listen, I’ll help you out. ‘Cause I’m nice like that,” she gives a big smile and he grins back. “But my private life is that. Private.”

“Duly noted, love. If he asks, and he won’t, but if he does, just make something up.”

She agrees, muttering a “Yeah,” under her breath. She looks back at the house and sees Henry looking out the window. She gives him a small wave, and he waves back before she turns to Killian. “Thanks. For coming out and for…” She clears her throat. “I’m sorry. About your dad. That…that sucks.”

He breaths out heavily before looking away, putting his thumbs through the loopholes of his belt. “Thanks.”

He holds his elbow out for her to take and leads them to the door as he says, “Oh, by the way, my favorite color is blue. Just in case.”

Emma chuckles and for the first time this began thinks that maybe everything will be alright in the end.

~*~

Marco Woodman was due to arrive by Friday, December 20 at 6:00pm local time. Killian kept looking at the calendar. It was Thursday, December 19, 9:00 am local time and Killian has already panicked. This was going to end in disaster. He just knew it. Not because of Emma or Henry, no. Of that he was certain. He has spent the equivalent of six hours with them (more than that if he counts how much he and Emma have messaged each other), and he knows that he has nothing to worry about when it comes to either of them. Henry’s a great kid and Emma…

No, he’s not worried about them. He’s worried about himself. Killian may be a lot of things, but he does not like to lie or be deceitful. What you see is what you get, that’s Killian’s motto. He may have some skeletons in his closet, to be sure, but nothing that would be deemed absolutely horrible. Mostly bad mistakes and things he wishes he could have done differently.

But this whole situation with Emma and Marco…He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like lying. He’s sure that _he_ will be the one to mess up; he’s so sure that he’ll say or do the wrong thing and blow his chances of ever getting to run the corporation in London.

**_33 hours. But you know, who’s counting? :p_ **

Killian smiles at the text from Emma. Ever since her minor…well, panic attack basically, she’s gotten a tiny bit more open with him. And he likes it. She’s funny, and incredibly intelligent, and….

Well, it’s nice having someone in the same boat as him. True that she doesn’t have the same outcome as him, but she’s also pretending here. Anyway, it’s just nice having someone in his corner.

He types back. **Aye. Not like anything big is happening, right?**

****

**_I think the Mets are playing_ **

**Love, I don’t follow baseball, and even I know they don’t play in the winter.**

****

**_Argh! I was trying to go for a joke_ **

**_Anyway, Henry and I will arrive tomorrow at your place at ETA 4:00_ **

****

**You can’t get there earlier??**

**_Dude I have work and he has school. You’re lucky it’s 4:00 and not later_ **

****

**Please don’t be late.**

**_I’m going to ignore that because we haven’t been late once_ **

**_How come you end every sentence with a period? You know you’re not writing a paper right?_ **

****

**Because I like it.**

**Period.**

**_Weirdo_ **

He laughs before putting his phone back on his desk. His secretary, a young man named Arthur who, while good at his job, needs to learn the meaning of the word ‘humble,’ pops his head in. “David is here for you,” he says.

Killian waves him in and Arthur closes to door behind David. He looks back to make sure the door is closed before asking, “You ready for tomorrow?”

He nods. “Aye. I believe so. I’m so bloody nervous, though.”

David laughs before sitting in the seat opposite Killian. “Why?”

“Oh, it’s just my future on the line, nothing more.”

“Killian, they’re going to be fine.”

“I know.”

“And so are you.”

He pauses. “You think so?”

“I _know_ so.”

Killian releases a breath before looking at his watch. “32 and a half hours to go.”

“Stop worrying. It’s like a damn rocking chair.”

Killian raised an eyebrow. “Mate, you’re going to need to explain that one.”

“Worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but you’re not going anywhere.”

Shaking his head, Killian gets up from his desk and walks over to the filing cabinet. “Well, thank you so much for that bit of fortune cookie wisdom.”

“Sure.” He’s quiet for a second as Killian gets out the file he needs. “You know I’ll be there every step of the way. Regina too.”

“Regina better be there. She’s the reason I’m in this mess.” He turns back around and walks over to his desk.

“She meant well.”

“I know.”

David sighs before asking, “33 hours?”

“33 hours.”

~*~

Killian looks at his watch. It’s ten past 6 on Friday, December 20, and David messaged that they were on their way back from the airport, but just got stuck in traffic.

The house currently smells like cooked meat and spices, and while that smell usually makes his mouth water, right now it’s just making his stomach turn. 

He’s barely gotten a second to talk to Emma or Henry, since they were both taken immediately by a team that Regina hired to “spruce up their imagine,” whatever the hell that meant. They were currently upstairs in her guest room, doing God knows what, and all Killian can think about is that Emma and Henry both looked fine the other night.

When Regina comes down the stairs, she looking at her phone and how she doesn’t trip is something that is beyond him. “What’s going on up there?”

“Just making them look like they are a family that has money,” Regina replies nonchalantly without looking up.

“They were fine the other night.”

That makes her look up at him. “Killian, I hate to break it to you, but you have money. Your “wife” is supposed to look like she shares that money. Rich wives don’t weather red leather jackets they found at Goodwill.”

“I like the red leather jacket,” he mutters.

“And when it’s Sunday night, by all means, you can tell her. But for right now, she needs to look a tad more elegant.”

“And Henry?”

She shrugs. “He wants to talk to his mother about something.”

“Does he look _elegant_?” he asks, stressing elegant like it’s a word associated with horrible bodily functions.

“He looks like an eight-year-old boy. He’s fine.” Her phone beeps and she immediately looks down at it. His phone beeps too. His stomach sinks and his heart pounds. His head is rushing from the amount of bloody pumping into it (maybe? He’s not sure.)

She clears her throat before lifting her head. “He’s here.”

Killian nods and tries to remember how to breath. This was such a stupid idea.

Regina walks towards the door.

He never should have agreed to this. He should have told the truth from the beginning.

“Wait!” he shouts, just as she’s about to put her hand on the doorknob.

“ _What_?” she hisses at him.

“The ring!”

Regina’s hand drops towards the pocket of her pantsuit. “Shit, I have it somewhere,” she mutters before pulling out a silver circle. She walks back over to him and grabs his hand roughly and tries to get it on, but he mutters, “Wrong finger, wrong finger, wrong finger!”

“God!” she huffs before shoving the ring in his hand. “You do it!”

“Thanks,” he mutters as the doorbell rings. He quickly put it on the correct finger and fixes his suit (Regina insisted) before he walks over to the door. “Show time,” he mutters before he throws open the door.

“Mr. Woodman! Welcome!”


End file.
